Chapter Text
The morning after what had been the most baffling, and possibly the most stressful night of his life, the Prime Minister had an eight AM meeting.
It has been listed on his schedule along with the innumerable other briefings that came with being elected Prime Minister, and he hadn’t thought about it when he’d had it scheduled. But, after a night of tossing and turning, and listening to the the gerbil which had formerly been one of his favourite teacups, scratch around inside of the sock-drawer he’d put it in for the night, he really wished he’d opted for a slightly later start to his first day.
He staggered blearily into his office at three minutes to eight and begged his secretary for some very strong coffee only to have a member of the catering staff nod to him on the way out of his office.
“Mr. Jacobi already asked for it Prime Minister,” his secretary said primly.
“Oh, thank you Michelle,” he said, a little vaguely. The name didn’t sound even the slightest bit familiar.
Mr. Jacobi, walked in at eight o’clock exactly. He was smartly dressed, with glossy, curly, dark hair and a cupid’s bow mouth, and the Prime Minister was perfectly certain he’d never set eyes on him before.
“Congratulations Minister,” Mr. Jacobi said, holding out a hand, “Tommy Jacobi, from MI5. Call me Tommy. I’m here to brief you about the visitor you got last night I’m afraid. I’m terribly sorry about that, but our information on the Ministry of Magic isn’t good enough to say exactly when he’ll show up.”
The Prime Minister gaped.
“You, um, you, that is, we, know about - about, that,” he trailed off a little lamely.
“I lead the department which monitors Wizarding Britain,” Tommy said, “Also, I’m not so bad at magic myself.”
Then he pulled a magic wand, just like the one Fudge had used on his teacup, out of his sleeve and set it on the Minister’s desk.
Then Tommy helped himself to the coffee that had been left out on the side board, pulled a few neatly ordered files out of his briefcase and started to tell him about wizards. Tommy was a well organized speaker with a pleasant voice, and even though the more he learned about Wizards, the more he wished he could go back to not knowing anything at all, as Tommy talked he felt increasingly relieved that someone had the whole situation in hand.
The Minister was also sneakingly relieved he hadn’t had to campaign against this man, he wasn’t sure he’d have won.
“I’ve got to ask,” said the Prime Minister, once Tommy had either handed over or tucked away the last of his documents, “how does a wizard, an actual wizard end up working for MI5.”
“Intelligence is something of a family business on the non-magical side,” said Tommy lightly, then looked, very seriously, straight into his eyes, “and quite frankly Minister, if you had a choice between living in Great Britain, or in a perpetually unstable anocratic pseudo state, where you pick?”